


Fresh

by PoppyCartinelli



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, SuperCat Slam, WTF, except how over the top it is, fresh, it's cute like no worries, lol, supercat, this is was meant to be a joke fic and then it got real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 22:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9462017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoppyCartinelli/pseuds/PoppyCartinelli
Summary: Cat has to work on these fresh feelings.





	

**Author's Note:**

> SuperCat Slam Prompt:  
> Fresh

Kara was like spring after a long winter. Fresh buds on trees in a cool breeze. Sunshine dappling over a mountain stream. Bread, baked and cooling on an oven rack. Home, just cleaned, with washed sheets and couch cushions.

Cat grimaced at her own thoughts. As a writing exercise, this was fine, everyone needed to branch out once in a while. But the feelings that Cat was… feeling. Those were not okay. Cat’s body was betraying her, she obviously needed a new prescription. Her hormones must be off-balance.

Maybe she was having a heart attack.

Kara walked past the glass and sent Cat a smile more dazzling than all the jewels in the queen’s crown.

Definitely a heart attack.

Cat huffed and threw herself into her work. The board would meet tomorrow, Cat had notes to prep. Some of the points raised in emails were useless and Cat would not bother to address them, but a few were valid and needed responses.

“Here are the layouts you asked for, Ms. Grant!” The overly cheery voice should grate on Cat’s nerves, slowly drive her into a homicidal rage like all the other exuberant people she’d ever met. But no, again her body betrayed her, Cat actually relaxed at the voice!

Her shoulders eased from their pent-up position, her back straightened from its slouch, and she twitched her neck into a semblance of balance. Kara’s smile seemed to only grow and Cat huffed at herself. She was probably just relaxing because of the now-finished layouts. They’d been weighing on her mind.

“Thank you, leave them there.” Cat waved her hand and kept her voice bored. At least she could manage that.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Ms. Grant?”

Oh, there were so many things. Cat’s eyes dragged from her paperwork up to those dazzling eyes that seemed to yearn for Cat just as much as Cat yearned for her. Those lips that would be so sweet to kiss, to steal the innocence from.

Such a fresh catch.

Cat balked at herself and focused on the hideously adorable cardigan of the day, “Yes, you can take off that cardigan.” Cat turned to her phone before she realized what she’d said and the panic flashed through her. She gritted her teeth and added as calmly as possible, “Change into something an actual adult would wear.”

She waved Kara away and twitched her fingers over her phone for all of three seconds before her eyes tugged upwards to watch the girl walk away. Sway away. Those hips could sink ships. Maybe she was on a ship. Maybe that’s why Cat felt light headed.

She’d never liked boats.

The image of Kara in a swimsuit, all tan, soft skin and gorgeous flowing hair assaulted Cat. How would Kara’s hair feel between her fingers? How would it look rustling freely in an ocean breeze? How much would Cat pay to get her alone on warm sand with her skin just barely sticky from the sea salt clinging to her just as Cat would-

Cat stood and slammed her hands down onto her desk. She needed to fire someone. Right now, that would make her feel better.

She looked up only to be caught in an entirely different ocean of blue. Cat felt her heart clench, those eyes were so honest, so open. God, that kind of innocence just made her want to throw Kara onto her desk and sink her fingers into her until her head dropped back and those eyes would darken until she –

The accounting department. They’d been slow recently. The accounting department was boring. Yes, boring was what Cat needed. She flicked her wrist and watched as her mug crashed to the floor. Shit, she needed to pull herself together. Really, breaking things at work was unacceptable.

But before Cat could reach down to pick up the larger pieces of porcelain, porcelain skin was presented to her. And Cat saw another thing she wanted to break.

Cat knocked over her chair in her haste to back up. She bit out a suitably bitter remark and fled- no, no, Cat Grant did not flee- strutted down to the photocopier room that only she had the key to. She pressed her back against the door and let out the long-suffering sigh of one in lo- in confusion… about everything.

She wanted to write poetry. Cat Grant wanted to write poetry about some girl who was far too naïve to ever interest her. Far too innocent, kind, loyal, cute, smelled like a flower shop but in the best way possible, to ever cross Cat’s radar.

With another huff, she reached for a sheet of paper and the pen still in her pocket. If poetry was how she’d be able to focus, then poetry it would be. Cat had faced worse before, she could beat this too. Cat frowned at the paper, lifted her pen, and went to war.

 

_Eyes like an ocean wave_

_They send me spiraling_

_Drowning in this feeling_

_Hair spun of gold_

_Soft to the touch_

_Twirled around her finger_

_~~Just like my heart~~ _

__

_Lips like rose petals_

_Lacking the thorns_

_Sweeter than any nectar_

Cat paused and grimaced. It’d been a while since she’d written anything but news articles. Maybe this wasn’t the outlet for her. Desperation was a fickle creature, though, so Cat put her pen back to the page.

 

_Roses are red_

_Violets are actually violet_

_I shouldn’t leave these things unsaid_

_You make me higher than a pilot_

Cat stared at the page in front of her. She calmly ripped it in half and then in half again.  She sat and stared at the wall in front of her. At least here she could mourn the loss of her writing talent in peace.

Time ticked away and Cat Grant remained in what was, effectively, a closet.

 

* * *

 

She came out, physically, after dusk. The city lights played into her office and there was no sign of her most distracting assistant. The soft noise of traffic filtered up to her balcony and Cat sighed. She felt drained, thin, like butter over too much bread.

She needed to fix this, before it got any more out of control. Cat rubbed at her neck, she would not end up like the men at the Planet, with their perverted gazes and grabby hands. Maybe what she needed was some distance. Distance would help her think.

Three taps came from her balcony door, Cat nearly groaned, now was not the time. There, on her balcony, Supergirl stood in all her heroic glory. The lights of the city seemed dim in comparison to her eyes, it was not the skyscraper view that took Cat’s breath away.

“Supergirl.” Cat stood from her chair and crossed the office to press the door open. “What can I do for you tonight?”

Supergirl gestured to the loungers, “Talk with me?”

It’s not like Cat could say no. Not with that fluid movement, that confidence that Cat never got to see during the day. A lioness, no, a goddess in her domain. There was nothing bestial about Supergirl, but everything celestial.

Cat needed distance, but people aren’t meant to shut themselves in the darkness.

Supergirl watched Cat. Watched her sit and look out over the city, before her eyes returned to Supergirl.

“So, Supergirl, what did you want to talk about?” She settled back to get comfortable, but a strong breeze made her shiver. Supergirl stood and Cat frowned, but before she could say anything, Supergirl was unclipping her cape.

With two sure strides, Supergirl reached around Cat to secure the cape over her shoulders, “The breeze is strong tonight.”

Cat stopped breathing when Supergirl’s hands strayed on her shoulders. There were stars in the girl’s eyes, like the whole milky way got caught up in two perfect orbs. Supergirl’s hands were warm and her cape, settling gently across her shoulders and back, was far softer than any material had the right to be.

Cat decided she didn’t need air if this woman would keep looking at her like that.

“You can’t do anything to me that I wouldn’t want, Cat.” The words were soft, nearly lost on the breeze twirling Supergirl’s hair. Cat had to lean forward to pick up the syllables and Supergirl seemed just as drawn toward her.

Maybe they were caught in a gravity well. That would certainly explain the lack of air, and the pull that Cat felt that she just couldn’t shake. Perhaps, just maybe, Supergirl felt that too, because she was leaning closer and Cat’s lungs were starting to burn,

_Just like her soul, how her stone heart melted with every inch this woman drew closer. She was a sun and Cat felt like Icarus, too caught up in the beauty and warmth after years in a cold cell. Oh and Cat would burn, burn and fall to the ground, just to get a taste of those lips._

And there was a material that was softer than Supergirl’s cape, it was her lips. Pressed gently, but firmly, to Cat’s forehead. Cat felt all the air rushing back into her lungs and surely, surely that was what had her dizzy and lightheaded.

“Isn’t it time to dive, Cat?” The words whispered over Cat’s skin and Cat shivered before Supergirl pulled away. Her hand slipped to Cat’s cheek and she looked down at Cat with a smile and eyes filled with nebulae.

Cat leaned into the touch, but Supergirl pulled away. She walked to the railing and Cat couldn’t bring her legs to hold her weight. She stared, slack-jawed as her sun winked from the edge of her balcony and lifted from the ground.

How right that was; Cat, caught up in the divinity of a woman who could easily fill the sky with her own light. Yes, Cat was going soft, her heart too fast, her palms sweaty, but if this was burning, then Cat would never stray from the flames.

“Give that back to me when you’re ready.” And the sun was gone, setting over the horizon, her streaks an ever-present memory behind Cat’s eyelids.

 

* * *

 

Cat slept with the cape wrapped around her. It smelled of the sun, a perfume she knew oh-so-well, and a home she would hopefully see soon.

 

* * *

 

She folded the cape into a box. She’d gotten the signal, she wouldn’t pass this chance up. This woman in her heart was right, it was time to start something fresh. When she walked into the office the next morning, Cat Grant traded her box of symbolism for a perfect latte.

Kara Danvers could feel her heartbeat racing under her skin and maybe Cat would burn and fall, but hopefully there was a Supergirl just waiting to catch her.


End file.
